


You get what you need

by QueenBoo



Category: The Mighty Boosh RPF
Genre: 09 tour times, Anal Sex, Beard Porn, Just a sprinkling, M/M, Noel like getting beard burn, Oral Sex, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn With a Sprinkling of Feelings, okay its sin but the fluffy kind?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 09:54:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29451876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenBoo/pseuds/QueenBoo
Summary: Noel, and unshaven Julian, a quiet hotel room, and some time to themselves.
Relationships: Julian Barratt/Noel Fielding
Comments: 6
Kudos: 15





	You get what you need

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SinSpinach](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinSpinach/gifts).



> For SinSpinach who not only inspired me with wonderful pictures of a bearded Julian but also just cheers me on anytime I suggest writing sin. So of course, I deliver on a request of theirs without a second thought. 
> 
> That request being 'Beard porn'. I hope you like your smut with some feelings because that's almost all I'm capable of doing. Enjoy!
> 
> Title taken from The Rolling Stones - You Can't Always Get What You Want

There is something hauntingly beautiful about a silent room. 

Noel can hear the muted sounds of traffic outside of the window. The whistle of a cold November breeze filtering through a crack in the pane. Closer to home, Noel picks out the muffled voices of Dave and Rich in the room next door, not distinct enough to distinguish words but the rumble of their combined voices carry through the paper-thin excuse for walls this hotel boasts with ease. 

But the most distinct sound, the one Noel is holding his breath to be able to hear in the first place, is the rasp of Julian’s beard against his skin. 

The older man has his face buried between Noel’s thighs and he spreads them just a fraction wider to accommodate. Julian mouths at his inner thighs, licks over the place where his leg meets his body, nuzzles almost affectionately over his balls. Each of these stopping off points is tender and slow; an act of worship in and of itself and Noel is fisting his hands in scratchy bedsheets to ensure his own impatience doesn’t ruin what is, all things considered, a pretty romantic rendezvous. 

After days upon days and nights upon nights filled with noise; the scream of crowds and the thumping music of after-parties, the rumble of a tour bus, the constant chattering voices of the other three Boosh members starting to grate on him (not Julian’s, never Julian’s), and most of all the whiny voice in the back of Noel’s head that constantly begs the question  _ is it all really worth it?...  _ The silence is breathtaking. 

And in it, the only thing Noel wants to hear is the sloppy noises of Julian sucking love-bites into the pale skin of his thighs. 

Once that task is completed Julian turns his face to drag his stubbled cheek over the spot, no doubt cherishing how Noel gasps his approval of the action. 

_ Pervert,  _ Julian had called him upon the initial discovery of Noel’s enjoyment for beard burn. Though, it did nothing to stop him actively partaking in every opportunity they got to do so. Surprisingly, or perhaps unsurprisingly, they were not a lot of opportunities on tour for sex. Especially not the kind that left Noel red-raw from constant facial chafing. This is because not only are they in company on an almost constant basis while moving from pillar to post, but it also has the irritating downside of being one of the only instances where Julian’s personal care routine involves regular shaving. 

_ Howard’s a pompous sort-of, moustachioed guy.  _ Julian had posed to Noel as he dutifully tidied up his facial hair ahead of their performance in Newcastle.  _ The beard makes him look like he doesn’t care. He does care. He cares too much.  _

Noel isn’t sure if that was more a comment on Howard or the man who built him out of chunks of exaggerated personality. Does that mean Julian sees himself as a man that does not care? 

He is dragged forcefully back from his musing as Julian’s large body begins to move. He crawls a little way up the bed, dragging his cheeks in a zig-zagged pattern along Noel’s stomach and up to his chest. There he latches onto one of his peaked nipples, swirls that talented tongue of his around the nub and Noel can’t (won’t) stop the moan breaking free from his throat. 

Julian chuckles breathily as he lets go, instead whispers, “shh,” against Noel’s sternum like that will make any difference whatsoever. 

One of Julian’s large hands wraps around the base of Noel’s cock as he tongues at the other nipple. Noel releases his right hand from the sheet to clamp over his own mouth as he squirms under the ministrations. Julian strokes him lazily, thumbing at his slit and spreading precome down the shaft to ease his way. There’s nothing rushed about how he drags this out, he’ll pause periodically, squeeze Noel’s length and then twist his wrist. It’s already too much; after almost two weeks since the last time they touched each other like this, Noel already wants to cry with how close he is. 

Even the hand over his mouth can’t conceal the way Noel whines, “Fuck!” and this time when Julian withdraws he does so with a wet  _ pop _ and spit slick lips. 

Noel’s cock is abandoned in favour of Julian using his hands to pull himself further up Noel’s body. He nuzzles affectionately at Noel’s throat and then his cheek, leaving worshipful, yet almost juvenile kisses across his cheekbones, his forehead, his closed eyelids. The nature of it makes Noel chuckle quietly, and with a sudden ferocious urgency, he cups his hands to Julian’s rough cheeks and coaxes him downwards into a kiss. A real one. 

They breathe noisily through their noses, sighing contently. Their teeth catch a little as they find their angle. Noel scratches his fingers through the stubble beneath his palms and Julian hums in delight. With eager kitten licks, Julian persuades Noel to open his mouth. They spend what feels like an eternity just tasting each other. It’s unhurried and yet Noel can’t shake the feeling he’s on a time-limit. Like any minute an alarm will ring and inform him his time is up. _This is your half an hour call._ Everything feels a lot like that lately as if there were not enough hours in the day to do everything. Especially not enough to love Julian. 

Noel presses his fingers just below Julian’s jaw and uses the thudding heartbeat of his partner as a time signature. A flicking metronome that keeps them both on the beat with one another. He tugs at Julian’s lower lip with his teeth and then sets his sights a little further south. Noel’s lips leave delicate butterfly kisses along Julian’s jaw and then find their mark--the same pulse he’d been caressing with fingertips just a moment ago is now met with scraping teeth and panted wet breaths. The thought crosses his mind, fleeting but dangerous all the same, that he could just bite down. Leave something permanent, rough and animalistic, that would show the world just who Julian belonged to. 

Not that the world really needed to be told; but there’s always an urge to  _ remind.  _

There is no further opportunity for that particular sliver of possessiveness to take hold. Almost as soon as it begins to bloom Julian is on the move again; they joke about being able to read each other’s minds but as Julian sits back on his haunches and looks down at him with sparkling brown eyes Noel fears that maybe he really can see into his head. 

And if he can, does he sometimes fear what he sees. 

One of Julian’s thumbs draws over the rise of his cheekbone and then he is leaning across Noel’s body to swipe something off the stand by the bed. Any and all negative thoughts fly out of Noel’s head like rouge kites caught in a strong breeze. He feels a surge of want as he realises where this is going. He waits patiently, tipping his head back into the too soft pillows and exhaling on a sigh as Julian renters his personal space. There’s a stubbled cheek against Noel’s clean-shaven one, nuzzling and rubbing, while slick fingers slide down the crease of his arse. Julian’s mouth covers his, stifles the yip of surprise Noel gives as one of Julian’s fingers slips into him. Noel cannot be still. His shoulders roll restlessly, he nips playfully at Julian’s lips, he clenches and releases his fists in the sheets. He tosses one arm around Julian’s broad shoulders and uses the momentum to roll his whole body downwards onto the thick finger currently sliding in and out of him at a leisurely pace. 

Julian laughs, deep and low, right from the centre of his chest. “Tart,” He grumbles lovingly, but one finger quickly becomes two and they’re scissoring and stretching him deliciously. 

The hand not tossed around Julian rises again to cover Noel’s mouth--on the other side of the wall it sounds like Rich is telling a story and Dave laughs--and he sinks his teeth into the meat of his own palm to keep from crying out. 

Even the hand does nothing to disguise the whimper Noel gives as Julian slips his fingers out and goes searching once more, this time for a condom. 

Eager to get a little more involved, Noel sits up too. He slides palms up Julian’s thighs and wraps a hand around his cock with confidence. Julian’s head drops backwards towards the ceiling, he curses softly as Noel dips further forward and kisses the tip. He wraps his lips over the head, hums hungrily as if he were presented with a three-course meal, and begins to sink lower on the shaft. Julian’s hand rises to his head; his fingers only resting on the strands but not pulling, because they both have other plans for this evening, and the weight of it is comforting. It’s a memory. It’s, as pathetically soppy as he might sound, like coming home after a long stay away.

Julian’s hands on him will always equate to safety for Noel. 

The hand in his hair pulls him back as carefully as possible because while Noel might enjoy the sting of his hair being pulled, it isn't the night for that kind of play. Noel peers up at Julian, takes in his squinted eyes, warm and filled with admiration. His usually furrowed brow is smooth and worry-free. His cheeks are flushed a shade of pink much too delicate for a man of his stature. His hair is mussed, his canines on show where he grins a puppyish grin. 

Noel has never felt more hopelessly in love than at that moment. 

With one last bob of his head, Noel retreats. As he draws back a string of saliva stretches between the head of Julian's cock and his tongue, and he makes sure to maintain eye contact with Julian as he licks it away. Julian's jaw drops and yet no sound escapes except for a heavy exhale. Noel uses his moment of brief disbelief to take the condom from his hand and tears it open. It's with practised ease that Noel pushes back Julian's foreskin and rolls the condom on. There are still encouraging fingers in his hair, and now they guide him backwards to splay on the bed once more. 

Noel gets comfortable. He wriggles around on the bed and slides a pillow beneath his hips. Julian skates a calloused palm along the outside of Noel's thigh and urges him to wrap them about his waist. As if they are unable to stay apart for too long, Julian tips forwards, he rests his weight on one forearm by Noel's head and covers Noel's mouth with his own. Noel grins into the kiss and tosses both arms around Julian's shoulders. Noel comes startlingly close to shouting when Julian enters him with one swift press of his hips, but Julian swallows the noise eagerly. Teeth graze Noel's lower lip as Julian retreats slowly and then drives forward _hard_ once more. Noel digs his nails into the flesh of Julian's shoulder blades, arches his back and rolls his body to receive every thrust. 

There's no rush, but it's certainly not as delicate as the foreplay had been. Julian is putting his weight behind every press of his hips and Noel thinks he might go cross-eyed. The larger man will retreat until just the tip remains inside and then jolt forwards. Noel shifts his hips up in search of the perfect angle and Julian moves with him without having to be told to do so. They both know when they find it because Noel's thus far quiet whimpers shoot up in pitch. He sinks his teeth into Julian's shoulder and practically sobs with the ecstasy of it all. Julian relocates his mouth to other parts of Noel's anatomy too. He takes to nibbling and brushing his bearded cheek against Noel's throat. Noel pants wantonly into Julian's ear. There's no need for elaborate dirty talk. For them to praise or degrade one another like they might in other situations. Julian's soft grunting and Noel's choked off whines are more than enough for them both. 

Noel snakes a hand between them, gripping his own cock and stroking himself in double time to Julian's thrusts. Just then Julian manages to press impossibly deeper, Noel holds his breath as Julian chokes his name and stills. The rhythm breaks, Julian is shuddering apart helplessly in his arms and the reality of that alone is enough to send Noel over the edge with a hiss. He comes between their bodies, all over their stomachs and his own hand. And he feels fucking amazing for it. 

Still buried under Julian's weight, Noel basks in the feeling for a moment. Their chests, still pressed together, vibrate with the rapid sounds of their stuttering heartbeats. Noel likes to imagine they're chatting. Fluttering eagerly against their respective ribcage to get at the other. It would certainly make sense if Noel and Julian's organs were also best friends. Would explain why he feels so empty whenever the other man isn't around. Why his heart seems to sing when Julian walks into a room. Why his stomach gets itself infested with butterflies even after more than a decade of friendship. Or whatever it is that they call this. 

Julian's heart is beating just a fraction of a second behind Noel's and it makes an alluring symphony to Noel's hearing. 

But it only lasts so long. Julian eventually pries himself off of Noel, rolling to the side with a sighed exclamation of 'Christ." Noel remains sprawled as Julian pulls off the condom and tosses it into the bin (or at least close to the bin). 

"I think about the first time we had sex, sometimes," Noel says eventually, not sure why that was the comment that came to mind. 

Julian, rightfully, Noel is a bit concerned he had all common sense shagged out of him just now, turns a confused stare to him. "You what?"

"The first time we had sex," Noel continues as if Julian is the one who is speaking nonsense. "sometimes I think about it."

Frankly, the way Julian wrinkles his nose as if he has tasted something foul should offend Noel. It doesn't. "It wasn't very… Sexy."

"Some of it was sexy."

"You gagged trying to give me a blowjob, Noel," Julian points out needlessly; Noel had in fact been there too. "And I think I spent more time apologising for wanting to shag you than actually shagging you."

"We were young and awkward." Noel looks back on the whole thing with the rose-tinted view of someone who longed for simpler times in their relationship.

Julian clearly views it differently, "We were repressed and filled with shame." He breaks off into a yawn, scoops an abandoned t-shirt from the floor to begin mopping up Noel's stomach. "What's your point, anyway?" 

Oh right. The point. 

"I just think about us then and us now," he takes the shirt from Julian, completes his cleanup job and then tosses it in the same general direction that the earlier condom has been sent. "How much we've changed."

Julian's gaze softens, he manoeuvres them both under the covers, tucks it over their joint shoulders, and rolls onto his side. Noel mimics the action and shimmies a little closer. They're left eye to eye. Julian waits for another agonising beat before he articulates further comment.  "We haven't changed. Not really." He says wisely. 

"You think?" Noel curses the vulnerable lilt to his voice, but Julian receives it with a devoted grin. 

"I think," he agrees. "The packaging might look different. A bit older and ready for the scrap heap, but everything on the insides the same." Noel chews on his lip in thought. Julian adds, "And the sex has aged like a fine wine, if you must know."

That sets Noel away cackling, a loud, high pitched, chewy laugh that forces Julian into his space. One of Julian's palms clamps over his mouth, the older man's brow furrowing to show off his well-worn worry lines. 

"If we went through all the effort of quiet sex just for your bloody cackle to out us, Fielding, I'm going to loosen all the seams in your jeans."

A threat that, while something that would genuinely inconvenience him, Noel receives with a snort of added humour. They both wait. They are holding their breaths to let the silence in their room speak for the suspicion of the room next door. But there is only the muted continued conversation of their other troupe members. If they had heard a thing, then none of them are making any effort to acknowledge it. Which almost certainly means they didn't hear a thing… all five Boosh members thrived on the ability to poke fun at the others. Noel and Julian didn't strive for quiet sex because it was in any way a secret that they sometimes  _ had sex _ , it was more because the earache of constant jokes for days after someone  _ heard  _ them having sex just wasn't worth it. 

One incident being caught in the tour bus toilets and suddenly everyone's a comedian. 

Julian withdraws his hand. He replaces it with a gentle kiss to Noel's lips, then a second to his forehead. "Are you done with your trip down memory lane?" Noel nods his head, for now suitably comforted of any lingering anxiety over his ability to hold Julian's attention like he could when he was twenty-five. For now. "Okay, then get the light. I need to sleep before you're inevitably gagging for it again."

It's a miracle that Noel contains his cackle this time, and he doesn't deny it either. He rolls over, flicks the lamp off, and in the dark, he scoots across the bed until he can press his chest to Julian's back.  As he drifts off he rubs his legs together and thrills at the raw feel of his thighs. He knows that when he pulls on his jeans tomorrow, he'll feel the results of Julian's stubbled cheeks with every step he takes. 

He will have that reminder, that no matter what, Julian will always be  _ his _ in this way. 

**Author's Note:**

> As ever I can be found on tumblr:
> 
> @queen-boo / @anciientboosh


End file.
